In Pursuit of Happiness
by Ina-chan
Summary: Yuki faces an important person from his past. What are the steps into attaining happiness? Rating was increased due to language and mature themes.
1. Step 1: Life is a sadist so just smile

Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Takaya Natsuki-sensei and Hana to Yume comics. This fic is done   
only for the glorification of FURUBA! This storyline is entirely an original introspective on a theory of   
mine. It's not a part of the FURUBA canon.   
  
October 2, 2002  
  
In Pursuit of Happiness  
Step 1: Life's a sadist… so just smile  
By Ina-chan  
  
  
  
"Ne, Yuki-kun, do you have a student council meeting today?"  
  
I looked up to face the owner of that familiar melodious tone, only to jump back in surprise upon   
seeing a pair of hopeful looking eyes, staring back at me. She was so close that I could see my own reflection in those beautiful eyes… and those smiling lips. They were so invitingly close that if I just lean a few centimetres forward…  
  
I took a sharp intake of breath and quickly pushed the urge from my mind as I tried to regain my   
composure. All I could do is desperately hope that she won't notice the embarrassing flush I'm feeling that's rising on my face as I idly arranged the already neat books sitting on my desk and shoved them into my book bag.  
  
"No, I don't have a meeting after school. Do you need help with anything today?" I heard my   
voice say out loud casually, very pleased that the tremors I felt inside me didn't reflect on my voice.  
  
"I'm glad," She sighed in relief before giving me a sheepish look, "I don't have my part-time this evening, so I was hoping to do some shopping after school. I know Kyou-kun is going to Shisho-san's doujou today, so I was wondering if you could come with me."  
  
I couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of jealousy at the fact that she also considered that baka neko for this errand. Nevertheless, I pushed those feelings away too and let out a laugh, "Honda-san, you know that you don't have to ask me about such things. All you have to do is say it and I'm there right away."  
  
"Ah… eh… tha…" She stammered, a little bit taken aback at my words, feeling a bit satisfied at   
the sight of the slight blush touching her cheeks as she lowered her eyes down shyly, "…tha… thank you very much, Yuki-kun."  
  
Seeing her so shy and demure, it took everything I got to keep me from taking her in my arms to   
give in to that strong urge to kiss her from earlier. Though I admit that the fact that several of our classmates in the room, eyeing us suspiciously, helped curbed my overenthusiastic impulses. Thus, I simply contented myself with lightly touching her arm to lead her out of the classroom away from prying eyes.  
  
"Ah! Souma-senpai!" Another voice called out from the hallway the moment we stepped out of   
the door, "Senpai, please, wait!"  
  
My heart fell as I saw Hagayui-san, one of the student council first-year representatives, waving at me desperately from down the hallway. I gritted my teeth and plastered on a forced smile, while we waited for him to reach us.   
  
Please don't let it be an emergency school council meeting.   
  
"Yes, what is it Hagayui-san?" I said aloud in the most polite tone I could muster.  
  
"Ma… Mayuko-sensei…" The younger boy gasped as he paused to catch his breath, "She… asked   
me… to fetch you."  
  
Oh, God… PLEASE don't let it be an emergency meeting.  
  
"For what?" I asked patiently, hoping that the strain in my voice is not as obvious as the strain of the muscles in my cheeks.  
  
Kagayui-san took one last deep breath, before continuing, "There's a phone call for you at the   
teacher's lounge. She said it sounded somewhat urgent."  
  
Thank you, God. I felt a strong sense of relief washing over me upon hearing those words.  
  
"Ara, Souma Yuki… watch what you're doing," Hanajima's bland voice filtered through my   
consciousness, "Tooru-kun is very fragile."  
  
With that, my mind blinked back to the present as I turned my attention back to Honda-san. My   
eyes widened in alarm upon the realization that my hand had unconsciously clamped around her elbow in a painful death grip while the short duration of my conversation with Hagayui-san. All the while, she was wincing wordlessly, and taking the undeserved punishment in silence.  
  
"I'm sorry, Honda-san!" I cried out in utter horror, let her arm go as if suddenly scalded, "I—"  
  
"Iya, it's okay! I'm fine! Don't worry about it!" She immediately cut me off before I could even   
start my babble, "Why don't you go ahead and take your phone call. I'll wait for you outside by the gate. Besides, I forgot that there's something that I need to talk to with Hana-chan with. So take your time."  
  
I felt absolutely awful. Never! Never even in my wildest imagination, that I would find myself in a situation of ever hurting Honda-san. Even by accident. The only thing I could do was to bow my head and clutch my hand in shame.  
  
"Yuki-kun?"   
  
She leaned over to meet my eyes, her own pair full of genuine concern. That only made things   
worse. It's one thing for me to hurt her, it's absolutely unforgivable that she had to be the one to worry over it. I pushed all my negative feelings aside in one clean sweep and forced myself to give her a reassuring smile, "Just wait for me, I'll be right back."  
  
I could see from the look on her face, that it didn't erase the troubled look in her eyes. But   
nonetheless, she returned my smile with her own sunny beam, "Hai!"   
  
And once again, I waged a silent battle within myself and barely won from the impulse of taking   
her in my arms and carrying her off to a place where it feel as if she and I were the only person left on Earth.  
  
"Try not to be too long, its rude of a man to make a woman wait," Hanajima-san intoned blandly  
  
Damn. Almost forgot Hanajima-san. Her deadpan eyes was cutting through me like a hot knife  
slicing a stick of butter. It felt as if my thoughts are clearly broadcasting itself on a giant screen on top of my head complete with subtitles and she's watching every single moment of it. All at once, I felt that familiar sense of embarrassment washing over me. "I'll be back as soon as I can," I managed to mumble before retreating down the hallway to the teacher's lounge.  
  
By the time I found myself in front of the door to the teachers' territory, my brain finally started to function normally. Now who would try to phone me at school at this time? Shigure would simply wait until he came home. Anyone from the Main House will simply relay the message to either Haru or Momiji. Ni-san wouldn't call. He'll simply make his way into the school grounds and make a dramatic entrance. Somehow, I couldn't help but shudder as that particular thought occurred to me. If it were an emergency, Hatori or Shigure would come to fetch him personally, rather than relay the message by phone.  
  
Aaaah! Enough already! Might as well get this all over with. Honda-san is waiting for him by the   
gate.  
  
"Excuse me…" I called out hesitantly as I opened the door  
  
"Ah, Souma Yuki-kun, take your phone call over there," Mayuko-sensei called out gruffly pointing at the phone in the corner  
  
"Sorry for the trouble," I said apologetically as I made my way across the room and cradled the   
receiver in my hands, "Hello, this Souma Yuki speaking."  
  
Save for the faint sound of music playing and people talking in the background, the other end of   
the line remained silent. That was strange, "Hello? Is someone there?"  
  
Another pause. Just as I was about to hang up the phone, a deep voice suddenly spoke. "Yuki."   
  
I felt another frown lining my forehead. The voice sounded familiar, but for some strange reason, I can't seem to put a face on in, "Yes? Who is this?"  
  
The person in the other line chuckled good-naturedly, "Of course. I didn't expect you to recognize me right away. It's been such a long time after all."  
  
That laugh.   
  
My blood froze as I finally realized who it was on the other side of the line. All of the sudden, I couldn't get my body to obey my will. I could only watch numbly as the receiver slipped from my unfeeling hands and clatter noisily on the desk. Everyone in the room stopped and I felt all their eyes turn toward my direction in surprise. That shook me out of my stupor and I grabbed the receiver again, mumbling my apologies over and over. Everyone turned away and pretended to ignore me, but I can still feel their glances studying me curiously from the corner of their eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry…" I stammered into the phone, "My hand slipped."  
  
The other person in the line laughed again, "Still clumsy as usual, aren't you? That's alright. In fact, I'm glad that you haven't changed that much."  
  
"You… why… are…"  
  
"I'm in town," he answered before I can gather enough coherent words to form a question, "Not   
for long though. I'm catching a flight to New Zealand around midnight. Until then, I have some time. Do you have time to come and meet me?"  
  
My heart pounded at the question… Do I have time? What kind of a question is that? I couldn't   
help but feel an ember of anger starting to heat up inside of me. How can he request something like that from me and expect me to come running at his beck and call? I've known from experience that he would never make the same effort if I requested that from him. Besides, Honda-san was waiting for me by the gate.  
  
"I would really like to see you before I leave," The voice continued, upon sensing my hesitation  
  
I closed my eyes and let my shoulders slump over as I gave my reply, "Where?"  
  
***  
  
I stood in front of the café that he instructed. Actually, I've been staring at the door from across the street in the last thirty minutes. I've seen several passer-bys giving me funny looks when they noticed my silent vigil. By this time, I'm feeling like a total heel. I hurt Honda-san twice within the short span of fifteen minutes. And here I was hesitating to face the reason why I had to stand her up.  
  
As expected, she became her understanding self. She didn't even bother to ask the reason for my   
sudden emergency, stating that Hanajima-san was willing to help her with the shopping in my place. Of course, Hanajima-san didn't buy anything I said. I could still feel the blank but knowing look in her eyes boring through my soul. She had an idea on the reason behind my forced apologetic smile. But somehow, I think she also understood my silent plea not to push the subject matter for Honda-san's sake.  
  
So now after exchanging our goodbyes and instructing to let Shigure know that I was coming   
home late, I ended up here…   
  
…standing in front of the café that he instructed…   
  
…like an idiot.  
  
I turned around and faced my reflection at the shop window behind me. I took a deep cleansing   
breath before glaring at the image I saw there, "You sacrificed an afternoon with Honda-san for this, so take it like a man."   
  
With those words said aloud, I forced myself to turn again and started to cross the street… silently praying for a truck… a car… I'll even settle for a goddamn bicycle to stop me in my tracks. Of course, by this time, I've convinced myself that God, all the heavenly beings and the goddesses of Fate have some grudge against me. So I before I knew it, I was across and my way through the doors and stopping in front of the table where he sat.  
  
He was about to bring the cigarette between his fingers to his lips to take a drag while reading a newspaper, when I arrived. He stopped midway as he sensed my presence before slowly lifting his head to look at me. We stared at each other silently for a long time, somewhat trying to get used that the other person is really standing in front of us right then and there. I bit my lip nervously, suddenly feeling like a four-year-old again, as he scrutinized me from head to toe. Finally, a small wry grin broke into his tired face.  
  
"Hi, how have you been?"  
  
"I'm fine…" I replied in a small, almost childlike voice, "… Father."  
  
  
To be continued…  
  
  
AUTHOR'S SQUAWK:  
  
Waaaaaah! This storyline first hit me at the back of my head since "Beautiful Stranger". And it's been nagging me ever since. Originally, I wanted to do a nice family dinner type of think with Ayame, Yuki, and their parents. But while I was formulating it… having four characters in a scene doesn't have the same impact. So this story eventually evolved. Well, it's been bothering me! So I had to write it before I went nuts! ^_^.  
  
Heh-heh… I was getting tired of the romantic tinged Tooru-Yuki angst I was writing in the "Wandering" storyline… and since I wanted to explore the unexplored Yuki/Ayame Family dynamics, I figured this would be the perfect outlet for it! Of course this fic is going to be YukixTooru romance scented, but its not going to focus on that. And the good news is… their romance this time won't be the center of Yuki's angst! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Gotta cut the guy some slack, after all the hell I put him through in my fics, ne? ^_^.  
  
Anywayz… C&C to ina_chan@yahoo.com if you have time!  
  
Ja!  
Ina-chan 


	2. Step2: When someone pushes you down… jus...

Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Takaya Natsuki-sensei and Hana to Yume comics. This fic is done only for the glorification of FURUBA! This storyline is entirely an original introspective on a theory of mine. It's not a part of the FURUBA canon, but its been bothering me! So I had to write it. ^_^.  
  
  
October 3, 2002  
  
In Pursuit of Happiness  
Step 2: When someone pushes you down… just get up… and push back  
By Ina-chan  
  
  
I last remember my father as a tall, dark-haired man with medium built. He looked nothing like   
Ni-san... or me. Back then, he also had a tan because he just finished working on a project somewhere in the United States. I think it was Florida or California or something. I honestly don't remember. That was almost five years ago… just before I started junior high school.   
  
A lot of things can happen in five years. But still… five years is not really that long a time for the significant change I see in my father now. He's still tall… but his dark hair was now specked with grays and silver. He's a little bit thinner… actually he looked kind of sallow. Like he just recovered from an illness. His face looked puffy, and there were noticeable dark circles under his eyes.  
  
"You look healthy," he finally said after ten more minutes of staring at each other after I settled on my seat  
  
I nodded, "And you look… tired."  
  
"Well now…" He laughed. His laugh was low and rumbling. It reminded me a lot like distant   
thunder, "I just got off from a 25-hour flight from Vancouver this morning. It doesn't really do much good for your beauty sleep."  
  
"And you're going to New Zealand as soon as tonight?" I couldn't help but frown at that. It   
seemed rather strange that a flight from Vancouver to New Zealand will stop over at Japan.  
  
"It can't be helped, I'm supposed to see a proposal for a project there two days from now," he   
replied with a small smile as if reading my thoughts, "But I specifically made a detour home because I wanted to see my children before that. If I choose to accept it, God knows when I'll find the time and opportunity."  
  
My father builds or designs buildings… I think. He's done several structures here in Japan, but   
most of his works are big projects overseas. It takes between several months to several years to finish. When I was little, he told me that he does it because he likes big challenges. The harder it is, the longer it takes, the better. Now that I'm older, I've come to understand that it was all just an excuse. You see, my father has perfected a feat that I've been failing to accomplish for years. The art of successfully "running away."   
  
"That's nice of you…but…" I started hesitantly, "…you look ill."  
  
"I'm just tired. Nothing 24 hours of uninterrupted sleep can't fix," came his not so reassuring   
reply as he took a long drag from his cigarette  
  
I tried to keep my face as impassive as possible, but I couldn't suppress the cough that erupted   
from my mouth as the tendrils of smoke started to irritate my throat.  
  
"Oh shit, you're the one with the lung problem," My father muttered under his breath as he   
immediately ground out the light of his cigarette on his overflowing ashtray, before reaching out for me across the table, "Sorry about that kiddo. You okay? You want water or something? Do you have your medication with you?"  
  
That's another one of my father's quirks. For some strange reason, he keeps interchanging Ni-san   
and me. He keeps making these annoying loud verbal self-reminders like 'the older one's the strange one', 'this is the one that doesn't talk much', or 'that's the one that almost gave me a heart attack'.  
  
"I'm fine," I coughed, waving his hand away, "Its just irritation from the smoke."  
  
"Excuse me, can I have some water here please?" He called out, snapping his fingers rudely to the   
server across the room, totally ignoring me. Yet another one of his annoying mannerisms, "I can't believe I forgot how sensitive you are to these things. I remember one time when you were two-years-old, I just lit one, LIT ONE. And you started going into spasms like you were going to hack your lungs out and die. Your mother tried to skin me alive. "  
  
"I'm fine," I stressed loudly to him. Not that it would do any good. I gave the server a polite smile as she came to our table to give me my glass of water anyway  
  
"Well, since this nice young lady is here already, you want to order something? Something to eat?   
Something to drink?"   
  
"No, I'm okay," I mumbled as I cradled the glass of water, "Water's fine…"  
  
"I know... hot chocolate milk. I remember when you were four, you used to wake up in the   
middle of the night and ask for hot chocolate milk," He ranted on, continuing to ignore me, "One hot chocolate milk please."  
  
I simply blinked. I don't recall of ever having even a vague memory of fondness for hot chocolate   
milk as a child. In fact, I'm not a big fan of milk, period. I had a nagging feeling that he was mixing up his sons again. Not like there's anything that can be done to stop him.   
  
Seeing him now, I'm reminded once again whose Ni-san took after. It's not very comforting to   
realize that. At least with Ni-san, you can pummel him to submission if he won't shut up. I just buried my face in my left hand and tried to ward off a headache developing in the vicinity of my left temple. I guess my thoughts were clearly reflected on my face as I caught the server giving me a small sympathetic smile before running off to get my father's order.  
  
"I had lunch with your brother earlier, by the way," He continued without breaking his pace, "He   
seems to be doing well too."  
  
"Mmmm." At this point, it seemed pointless to talk in coherent sentences since none will be able   
to get through anyway.  
  
"Originally, I wanted to pick you up so the three of us can hang out together."  
  
"….mmm…" I blanched at the thought. Somehow, throwing myself from the observation deck of the Tokyo Tower seemed more palatable than sitting together with my father and my brother at the same   
time.  
  
"But your brother reminded me that in Japan, you had school on Saturdays. I can't believe I've   
forgotten that. It only seemed like yesterday that I was in still in highschool."  
  
"Nnnn?" Somehow, I couldn't get myself to believe it. Ni-san actually saved me?  
  
"To be quite honest, I was actually surprised to find out that you were going to that school. A co-education school to boot! Your brother even said that you're the incoming student council president. Did you know that your brother was student council president too? It's a pleasing sight to see you following your brother's footsteps."  
  
"……" I quickly gulped my glass of water. Maybe if I drank it fast enough, I'll end up drowning   
so I can put an end to my misery.  
  
"By the way, how did you like the package I sent you?"   
  
"Mmmm…" I mumbled  
  
"What?" He asked as he leaned forward to hear me better   
  
I froze, with my glass still on my lips, like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of an   
incoming car at the sudden realization that my father was actually expecting me to give a coherent answer to his question. I managed to gulp the water in my mouth before attempting to speak, "Package?"  
  
"Yes… I sent you a package a few weeks ago just in case I didn't manage to make it for this trip…   
I suppose, it should have arrived some time last week…" My father stated slowly and patiently  
  
"Oh," I replied dumbly, "It's probably still in the Main House. I'm sure Haru will bring it to   
Shigure's house as soon as he can."  
  
"Haru? Shigure's house?" He said, bewilderment clearly evident on his face, "Doesn't your   
mother let you take your own mail?"  
  
"Father…" I started in that same slow manner, "… I don't live with Mother anymore."  
  
"Since when?"  
  
"Since spring… two years ago… before I started senior high school…"  
  
"So… you're not living inside the Main House compound with your mother because you're now   
living 'outside' in Shigure-kun's house with Shigure-kun?"  
  
"…and Kyou…" I added a little more quietly  
  
"Kyou!?" My father leaned forward as if trying to make sure he heard what I said right  
  
"…and Hondrmmm trmmmsnnn…" I mumbled, purposely putting the glass back to my lips, not really wanting to go into an in-depth discussion to why there's female outsider living in the same roof I was living in  
  
"Who?" He asked, though his tone sounded more like a demand than a request  
  
As if on cue, the server returned with a mug of hot chocolate milk. I couldn't help but flash the   
server with a grateful smile at the much-needed distraction. In turn, she turned into a deep shade of red before turning around with a soft giggle.   
  
"I thought you had lunch with Ni-san today. Didn't he tell you everything?" I began again, trying   
to derail the conversation to another direction, at the same time forcing a mouthful of chocolate milk in my mouth, trying not to gag. Any excuse not to talk is good right now.   
  
"No he didn't. You know how unpredictable your brother is. Thirty minutes after he arrived, he   
suddenly fell into this very convincing impersonation of a person who suddenly forgot how to speak."  
  
With those words, I found my prayer to drown on something suddenly answered as some of the   
chocolate milk in my mouth painfully made its way down my windpipe… the bit that managed not to   
escape through my nose, that is…  
  
"Excuse me! Can we have table napkins here please!" SNAP, SNAP, SNAP…  
  
I covered my mouth as I tried to cough out the rest of that nasty liquid out of my lungs just as the server returned with a container of paper table napkins at hand. Somehow, the image of Ni-san suddenly becoming mute as he sat opposite to Father was something my mind found very hard to imagine. Then again, even Ni-san must have his limits when facing someone like Father. I couldn't help but take a quick glance at my watch. 25 minutes… At this rate, I would actually last longer than Ni-san. I actually found myself caught between feeling smug and mortified at the idea that I have been tolerating Father this long.  
  
"And Akito-san willingly agreed to all of this?" My father asked, as soon as my coughing fit   
ceased.   
  
"Well…cough He didn't really have a cough choice in the matter."  
  
"Why is that?"   
  
"Because Hatori pushed hard for it cough for health and safety reasons after my... cough   
accident."  
  
"Accident!?" Though his tone sounded more like a 'Tell me everything now, you don't have a   
choice, and nothing can save you' kind of tone.  
  
"I… kind of… almost… drowned… in the bath…" I mumbled hesitatingly, almost inaudibly  
  
"You almost drowned in the bath. How can a person almost drown in the bath."  
  
"It was full of water…"  
  
"Yes, I'm aware of that."  
  
"…and I fell."  
  
"Aaaah… yes. You fell. How can I forget your favourite excuse?" My father intoned, raised his   
hands to rub his eyes. For some reason, he suddenly looked even more tired, wearier, and much older. He crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat before turning back to me, "So how did you fall?"  
  
I gave my father an incredulous look, "How many ways can a person fall in the bath?"  
  
"Well, in YOUR vocabulary… there are two main categories. 'It's solely your fault' kind of fall,   
or 'Your mother helped' kind of fall."  
  
"My fault," I muttered as I buried my face in my hands I don't really want to talk about this.  
  
"Was it really?"  
  
"Yes." Yes, really, really, REALLY. Oh God, please make him drop this.  
  
"How DID it happen."  
  
"I don't remember." Why is he pushing this now? I REALLY don't want to talk about this.  
  
"Try."   
  
"I had some pain so I took some of Mother's pain-killers…" I clasped my hands together and   
leaned back on my seat, unconsciously trying to acquire as much physical distance between the two of us as possible, "Then I started to feel sick… and I thought a bath would make me feel better. I think I fainted and I fell." There I said it, are you satisfied?  
  
"How much did you take?"  
  
"I don't know… I don't remember… a couple…" Oh, come on… I already told you what you   
wanted. Stop. Please…  
  
"Well then, give me an approximation of 'a couple'"  
  
"A full bottle."  
  
"Shit," My father stared at me in shock for a good three minutes before he started rummaging   
through his pockets for his package of cigarettes. I just watched him go through the motions wordlessly. But just as he was about to light a stick, he suddenly seemed to realize which of his two sons was sitting in front of him and automatically returned the stick into the package, "I think a beer would be good right now. I want a beer. I'm getting a beer. Do you want one?"  
  
"I'm underage."  
  
"Shit, that's right. It's the other one who can drink," He muttered clearly under his breath before raising his arm again to do that annoying snapping, "Excuse me! One beer here please!"  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"No, I'm not alright," He stated blandly as he turned his attention back to me, "First of all, when you were having these… problems. Why didn't you make an effort to call me? You have my phone number and you know that you can talk to me. Lastly, when did this happen again? Two years ago? So why am I just hearing this for the first time now?"  
  
Simply by his saying those words, that tiny ember of anger I felt earlier that afternoon was fanned into a full-fledged furious fire. How dare he imply that his ignorance was my fault? I wasn't the one who was busy gallivanting all over the world because the responsibilities of having an angry wife and two mentally unbalanced cursed children was too much to handle. I was the one who was abandoned here. How dare he indulge at the luxury of feeling betrayed?  
  
"What?"  
  
"What 'what'?" What does he want now?  
  
"You have that look on your face. The one your mother makes when she's scheming an elaborate   
plan to murder me in my sleep. Just drop it and tell me exactly what's going on in your mind."  
  
"You want to know exactly what's in my mind? Fine, I'll tell you," I stated blandly as I pulled   
myself forward and leaned on the table, "First of all… I don't have your phone number. MOTHER has   
your phone number. And at that time, trying to track you down from God-knows-where was not really the top priority in my mind. Lastly, maybe… MAYBE… if you actually make an effort to maintain regular contact with your family, it might actually help in relaying information to you about your children faster. I don't know, that's just a wild theory of mine."  
  
"Fair enough," My father stated quietly  
  
"Sometimes I even wonder if you really are my father."  
  
"Now, that is going two far. Stating what's in your mind and insulting me are two different   
things."  
  
"Well, what do you want me to think? You come in and out of our lives, acting like a 'father' at   
your own time and convenience. Did you honestly think that the idea won't cross my mind eventually?"  
  
My father studied my face, letting the silence linger between us for a few moments before raising   
his left hand to rub his left temple, "Shit, you found out about it."  
  
What? "What?"   
  
Of course, the server decided to come and deliver my father's order at this exact moment. My   
mind felt totally numb as it tried to process the words I thought his say earlier while I watched him watching me as he took a swig from his bottle of beer.  
  
"Father… What exactly did you mean?" I began cautiously, not trusting my voice, "Are you my   
father?"  
  
He simply stared back at me with a blank impassive expression on his face.  
  
Oh, my god. He's not answering. Why isn't he answering? It's a simple yes or no question, why   
the hell is he not answering? Oh, my god… Oh My God… OHMYGOD!!!  
  
"Oh, my god… you don't know, do you." I leaned back on my chair and covered my mouth with   
both hands, suddenly feeling very ill at the revelation. "You don't know and you never bothered to find out…"  
  
He took another swig from his bottle, before speaking. His impassive expression not faltering even a little bit, "You see kid, a paternity test is a double-edged sword. What do you think will happen if the results turn out negative? The whole world will know that your mother has been sleeping around and the Souma Family's precious jyuunishi mouse is a bastard. If it's positive, it'll just confirm that you received half of your genes from one of the two worst possible parents in the world. When you grow older and have children of your own, your genetics will dictate that you'll either become just like mother or just like me."  
  
I looked away and turned my attention to the café's windows. Watching the people passing by   
numbly, as I let my father's words sink into my fogging brain. I quickly glanced at my watch. 45 minutes. It took my father fifteen minutes longer to turn my brain cells into dead and numb mush than my brother's. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly that signified. Somehow, my mind idly wondered if Ni-san felt exactly what I was feeling now with his own encounter with Father a few hours ago.  
  
"So do you want one? We can go ahead and get a paternity test now if that will make you feel   
better. We don't even have to tell your mother. Heaven forbid if she finds out. It'll be like a father-son secret outing."  
  
Once again, I slowly turned to give my father a silent incredulous glare. Why can't he just shut   
up? Why is he doing this to me? He's enjoying this, isn't he? He enjoys cutting people up, watching them bleed, and then rub salt into their wounds. My inner child is currently in the middle of throwing a major temper tantrum and wanted me to scream all of that to him. Of course, my more restrained mouth said things differently, "Will it change anything?"  
  
"Probably not," My father said honestly with a shrug  
  
"Then what's the point," I muttered in self-defeat as I made myself ready to wallow in despair and self-pity  
  
My father watched me, sipping his beer, letting several minutes of silence lay heavily between us. Before he leaned forward on the table and motioned me to come closer. I let out a long sigh as I complied with his request and leaned close enough until we were within whispering distance.  
  
"Your mother…" He began in a quiet stage whisper, "…is the master of guilt manipulation. So,   
don't you even dare to EVER use that guilt crap with me because I can think of a million and one ways to get back at you in an instant!" The volume in his voice gradually rose to that of a low dangerous and very angry tone. Without warning, he stressed his point by flicking his finger right between my eyes. HARD.  
  
"Itte!!" I cried out in pain as I instinctively shrank back and nursed my forehead  
  
"You still have a lot more bowls of rice to eat before you can out-insult me," He continued more   
calmly as he settled back to his own seat, "For the record, your mother may be a world-class bitch, but she's a decent and honest woman. I have never, even at one fleeting moment in my life, ever doubted her honour. So even if the target of your insults is me, I won't tolerate any insult of any form that questions her virtue. Remember that, young man. In the future, if I hear you insulting your mother again… or from ANYONE that you did such a thing, I will fly over immediately to personally kick your ass. Do you understand?"  
  
I made a silent nod as a strong wave of feelings that was somewhat something between relief and   
shame threatened to constrict my throat.  
  
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" My father stated louder, demanding a proper answer  
  
"Yes, sir," I forced the words from my throat. It only made the painful lump lodged in it to throb, causing my eyes to water. My fingers immediately rose to cover my eyes. I'm not going to cry in front of him. I refuse to cry in front of him. There is no way I am going to cry in front of him.  
  
From the corner of my eye, I could sense my father smile softly as he watched my wretched form.   
He's such a goddamn sadist.   
  
"Besides," My father continued in a lighter tone as he picked up the almost empty bottle of beer in his hand and swirled its remaining contents absently, "There's no man alive who will be able to stand her."  
  
And a goddamn hypocrite.  
  
"She's bitchier than a shrew and more frigid in bed than a---"  
  
"STOP IT! Don't say anything else! This is inappropriate talk! I am not hearing any of this!" I   
closed my eyes and my hands automatically went to my ears. He DID NOT say that. I DID NOT hear him say that. Oh God! I can't believe he actually said that!!!  
  
"What?" He gave me a genuine bewildered look  
  
I gave him the most scathing glare that I can muster, "Any decent human being will NEVER   
discuss his sexual problems with his wife to their 17-year-old son."  
  
My father let out a hearty loud rumble of amusement, "My God! I never imagined that one of my   
sons would actually turn into such a prude. You're exactly just like your mother."  
  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Stop banging your head on the table, kiddo. It's embarrassing. Now you're acting exactly like   
your brother…"  
  
I pushed myself up from my seat and gathered my things, "I'm going home."  
  
"Okay," My father said as he fumbled through his pockets for his wallet, "Give me a second to   
pay and I'll call a cab and take you home…"  
  
I dug my hands into my pants pockets and my fingers curled around instinctively on the ballpoint   
pen it found inside of it. I suddenly had this vision of my father and myself at the back seat of a taxi, and me stabbing him repeatedly with an extra fine ballpoint tip, 90 yen (excluding tax), black BIC pen. "No, I'm fine. I can go home by myself."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, I'm very VERY sure."   
  
"Then take this at least," My father stood up and reached out to hand me a small white business   
card, "That one has my e-mail… My cell phone's in there too. You can reach me through those. It doesn't matter wherever I am in the world. I might not answer all the time… you know… sleeping, board meeting, or washroom... But it has voice mail… and I… always return my calls. You're welcome to call me anytime. For anything."  
  
I could only nod in agreement. For the first time in the entire afternoon, I was actually genuinely speechless.   
  
We stood awkwardly before each other, not really sure how to say our goodbyes. So my father   
finally settled with reaching out to ruffle my hair like he used to do when I was little before nudging my shoulder clumsily to get me on my way, "Go. It's going to be dark soon."  
  
With one last wordless nod, I walked across the room and opened the door, letting the fresher air   
from outside to billow against my face.  
  
"Yuki," My father called out to me before my foot took a step outside, "Say hi to your mother for   
me."  
  
I turned around and gave him a long bland look, "Tell her yourself, you yellow-bellied old goat."  
  
The sound of the chimes on the café door along with my father's low hearty laughter were the last   
sounds I heard as I closed the door behind me and made my way home.  
  
  
To be concluded…  
  
  
AUTHOR'S SQUAWK:  
  
sweatdrops Yeah… I actually intended this to be an angst-filled chapter. But when I started writing it, I just didn't have the heart to turn Yuki's father into a monster. I mean, as horrible as their childhood was revealed in the manga, both Ayame and Yuki turned out into good and caring boys, despite their eccentricities. Any parent can't possibly be all that bad if their kids turned out that way. And I actually wanted to portray their father as a nice balance of Ayame and Yuki's personality quirks. I like how he turned out.   
  
Okay… other stuff… about schools… Unlike most North American or North American-based standards of   
schooling… Japan has 6-day school weeks. I'm not sure about elementary school… but Junior Highschool (grade 7 – 9) and Senior Highschool (grade 10-12) have Saturday classes. But I believe they have shorter school hours in certain days than North American schools, and have more time for extra-curricular activities after school. The department of education has a standardized schedule of what lessons each year level will learn throughout the country, and basically provide a generic exam given approximately at the same time in all the schools nationwide. You also don't get to choose which class you go into or which teacher to teach you. And they use a "block section" system (we have this in Manila as well). Meaning, you are assigned to a single block section each year, and all the kids in that section will be your classmates for the entire year. Your section will be assigned a specific homeroom where all your classes will be held (with   
the exemption of P.E., labs, Home Economics, and Workshop). It's actually your teachers who end up moving from room to room to teach, instead of the students. I was so used to this system, that when I first came to school in Canada, I got so hopelessly lost and confused (compounded by my zero sense of direction) and embarrassed so badly that I almost quit school the first day.  
  
Yuki's "accident" is actually a reference to an older fic that I wrote called "Storm Beneath Still Waters". That one was a pretty heavy Yuki angst. I was somewhat pleased to see it revisited in a lighter note in this one.   
  
Anywayz… I better stop before my babble becomes as long as the fic.  
  
  
Ja!  
Ina-chan 


	3. Conclusion: To be happy somtimes, you ne...

Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Takaya Natsuki-sensei and Hana to Yume comics. This fic is done only for the glorification of FURUBA! This storyline is entirely an original introspective on a theory of mine. It's not a part of the FURUBA canon, but its been bothering me! So I had to write it. ^_^.  
  
  
October 8, 2002  
  
In Pursuit of Happiness  
Conclusion: To be happy… sometimes, you need to cry  
By Ina-chan  
  
  
Newton's third law of motion states that, 'For every action, there is an equal but opposite reaction.' Like when you're sitting in a car and the driver suddenly hits the breaks, your body gets thrown forward with the same amount of force opposed to the force stopping the car. Of course, since most likely you will be wearing a seatbelt, only your head receives the impact of that force… and you get whiplash. It shares the same principle when someone grabs you by the shoulders and starts shaking you violently.  
  
When I was little, I learned on my own that it doesn't necessarily apply to just the physics of toys rolling on a slippery floor or figuring out the right amount of force to use to be able to successfully throw your sparring partner during martial arts class. I found out, that for every good thing that happens to you, something equally bad is waiting to pounce at you as you walk round the corner. Just when you finally find your personal redemption, something that gives you worth, there's always something as equally bad that's bound to happen in exchange for that simple pleasure you discovered.  
  
One time, when we were younger, Kagura went on this 'playing house with her younger cousins even if it was against their will' stage. It was roughly after the incident with Momiji's mother... I think. Somehow, something planted in Kagura's mind that it was a good idea if she became her younger cousins' substitute mother. Even though Kagura's idea of 'mothering' was somewhat strange… and sometimes frightening, I secretly admit that though some of those unconditional hugs of affection were unwelcome… they were still a great comfort. Unfortunately, it was also in one of those instances when Kagura accidentally found incriminating bruises on my shoulders, carefully hidden under the folds of my clothes.   
  
She also accidentally "told".  
  
Her mother got upset. She was very concerned that our martial arts classes were getting too rough. So she confronted Shihan about it. Shihan, in turn, confronted me. When he saw them… it was the first time in my life that someone didn't believe me when I said "I fell" at home. Naturally that person got upset when Shihan voiced his concerns to her. And that incident eventually led to a series of events that concluded with me ending up with a matching bruise on my arm, a badly sprained wrist, and a nearly dislocated shoulder after another "fall". Needless to say, after that, Kagura made an effort to keep her demonstrations of affection became less pronounced… at least with me.   
  
As much as I hate to admit it… after her unwanted displays of affection was finally withheld from me…I started to hunger for it. Specially during times like these, when one naturally seek out for comfort in when one starts to drown in a sea of self-pity. The hunger for affection gets worse after actually tasting for yourself instead if just imagining it... it didn't really matter if it was merely an act of children playing, reinacting their experience of a mother's love.  
  
I can still remember her soft gentle humming filtered through my ears. It felt nice to hear it. I simply let the warm feelings that accompanied it wash over me. How pathetic I am. I'm so desperate in seeking for comfort that I'd reach out and settle for mere memories through my dreams. I let out a long sigh…  
  
Suddenly, the humming stopped.  
  
"Ara? Yuki-kun? Are you awake?"  
  
Eh? My eyes opened instantly and from the dim shadows the evening cast in my room, I saw her sitting on the floor by my bedside, looking at me apologetically. I automatically sat up to face her, "EH? Honda-san? Wha-?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, but it was sort of habit," She started apologetically with a sheepish smile as she raised to show me the piece of needle point she was working on, "I thought I'd try to finish my project for Home Economics class while I was here."  
  
"In the dark?" I couldn't help but frown at that, "Why didn't you turn on the lights? You'll ruin your eyes."  
  
"Ah… yes!" She replied, suddenly flustered at my reaction, as she leaned forward to explain her embarrassment, "I'm sorry! But I didn't want to wake you. You looked so tired when you came home earlier this evening."  
  
Once again, I felt my breath get caught in my throat. Even the shadows of the late evening couldn't hide the loveliness of her face as it cast her honest expressions. She was so close that I could smell the sweet and clean fragrance of her shampoo and I could the soft tendrils of her warm breath in the air around me. I quickly pulled away and reached past her to turn on my desk lamp, "Well… it's fine now. I'm awake. The least you could have done is turn on the lamp."  
  
"Ye- yes! I'm sorry!" She said again as she ducked her head and rose to her feet, "I'll turn on the lights right now."  
  
I watched her anxiously cross the short distance in the room to turn on the light switch, somewhat feeling very torn between disappointment and relief. With those feelings, a single question nagged at the back of my head as well. I instinctively blinked my eyes as the bright florescent light flooded the room, "Ano… Honda-san?"  
  
"Yes?" She turned around and gave me a curious look  
  
"Ano… what were you doing here?"  
  
"Ah, Shigure-san asked me to."  
  
Eh? "Shigure?"  
  
"Yes, before Hatori-san left, he said that it would be best to keep a close eye on you for the next 24 hours. I'm not quite sure what he meant by that… Anyway, Kyou-kun called and said that he'll be staying over at Shisho-san's place overnight, and Shigure-san decided to accompany Hatori-san to the Main House. That's why Shigure-san asked if I could watch you tonight."  
  
Eh? EEEEH!!? That perverted dog… I'm going to KILL him first thing in the morning! I never felt so mortified in my entire life! And all the while, she was looking at me with an innocent and very pleased expression on her face. I forced a small, self-conscious smile on my face, praying that she wouldn't notice the heat I felt pooling up my face, "Ano… Honda-san… I don't think Hatori meant that you needed to stay in my room to watch me sleep overnight."  
  
"But it's fine Yuki-kun, I don't mind staying with you at all!" She chirped enthusiastically, then her expression froze with a look of horror as soon as she realized the words that left her mouth. Her hands instantaneously rose to cover her cheeks, but it couldn't completely hide the same deep shade of red that flooded her own face, "Ah! Iya! ano… I didn't think… I didn't… I mean… not… that… way… I'm sorry. I'll go now if you want me to…"   
  
"Ah, no, don't!" I called out reassuringly, "I'm sorry for embarrassing you like that. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. Please stay."  
  
"Ye… yes," She said slowly as she settled back to her place, and picked up her school project, concentrating her gaze on the needle work in front of her.  
  
I hooked my arms around a bent leg and rested my chin on my knee as I watched her work. Of course, by now… sleep was the furthest thing in my mind. So I simply enjoyed her company and settled into the room's comfortable silence, secretly thanking Shigure's perversion that at least one good thing resulted from it.   
  
"Ne, Yuki-kun…"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"I was just wondering… what exactly was Hatori-san worried about?"  
  
I made an involuntary cringe at her question. Then again, I was already half-expecting that she would ask me that eventually, given Hatori's extreme concern. But honestly, Hatori needs to lighten up and loosen his noose on me once in a while. I mean, I already made a verbal contract that I won't do anything stupid. And yes, that earlier quip I made to him, when I asked him to hand me my Exacto knife in my drawer so I can slash my wrist to write and sign that contract in blood, was done in bad taste. But still… he knew well enough that I was joking. He took the blade with him anyway. The man seriously needs to get himself a good sense of humour.  
  
"Ah! You don't have to tell me… if it's something personal," She quickly said as she sensed my hesitation, before cautiously continuing on with her words, "But Yuki-kun… if there's something that bothering you… anything at all… I don't think I'll be much help… but I'm willing to listen…"   
  
I simply turned away and reached out to pull the white cord hanging by my window and peered at the clear night sky through the raised blinds. She made a nervous laugh at my silent reply, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so impudent. It's just that Yuki-kun has done so much for me. I just thought that's the least I could do… I'm sorry."  
  
"I saw my father today."  
  
"Eh? Yuki-kun's Otousan? Was that who you met this afternoon?"   
  
"Un."  
  
"Maa, you haven't seen your father in a long time, have you?"  
  
"Un."  
  
"Was Ayame-san and your mother with you? It must have been a happy reunion."  
  
"……No…Ni-san and I saw him at separate times. My parents had never been in the same room since I was six-years-old."  
  
"Eh? I'm sorry, I didn't know your parents were divorced."  
  
"They aren't. They just decided to live separately. It probably would have been for the best if they just get it over with and get one. But with Ni-san and I being the way we are, a divorce will simply complicate things even more since Mother is not a Souma. "  
  
"I'm sorry," She whispered again, "It must have been very hard for you to grow up and not seeing your parents together."   
  
"Not really. Either way, I ended up not spending a lot of time with either of them when I was growing up anyway. My parents are the type of people that shouldn't have been allowed to marry and have children." To be quite honest, I was surprised to hear my voice stating those words to her.   
  
"EH?"   
  
I continued to look out my window, determined not to meet her gaze, lest I loose my courage to continue saying what was weighing my heart down all these years. From the tone of her voice, I can imagine the expression on her face. She must be visibly shocked or confused with my words, or even both. After all, what kind of a person would say those things about his own parents? But somehow, upon saying it… it felt as if a wall had been knocked down. And the rest of the words being held back behind it poured out unabashedly  
  
"Father is terrified of responsibility, so he's made running away from it as a full time job. He takes his role as my father only because of duty… and at his own convenience. Mother has the tendency to… 'do' things… out of anger and with her not realizing it. Ever since I was little, I've made up my mind that when I grow up… I'll never become like either of them. I would stand up on my own and have nothing to do with them… But today…"  
  
I closed my eyes to brace myself as the emotions I felt flooded over me, during the nerve-wracking moments when my father looked at me in the eye and refused to answer my questions, "For a few brief moments… my father made me believe that I really wasn't his son… and I panicked. When it turned out to be untrue… I actually felt relieved. I never thought I'd be glad to be my father's son… but… it also forced me to accept something inevitable…"  
  
"Yes?" She encouraged me to continue as my nerve to say aloud what I wanted to say next started to falter  
  
/ When you grow older and have children of your own, your genetics will dictate that you'll either become just like mother…/  
  
"Earlier today… when I got upset at Hagayui-san…" I shifted my legs so that I would be hugging both of them as I buried my face on my knees, "I accidentally hurt you without even realizing it… and… all this time… with Father… with Mother… with Ni-san…"  
  
/…or just like me./  
  
"I was simply running away."  
  
I don't want that! I don't want to end up like that! I don't want to end up just like them. I don't want to wake up one morning and see my reflection in the mirror looking tired and weary and angry and old. I don't want to have the feeling that comes along with the knowledge that my children hates me and have flights of homicidal ideas to murder me at the back of a taxi cab with a ballpoint pen.  
  
"Ano… it probably would be very painful… but… I don't think its possible for anyone to be killed by getting stabbed by a ballpoint pen…"  
  
My eyes snapped open and immediately turned to her in disbelief. I immediately felt that embarrassing flush return to my face. I didn't even realize I said it out loud! Nevertheless, she took every word I said in serious, thoughtful contemplation, as if it was something any ordinary person from the street would say out in the blue.  
  
She met my eyes and froze before ducking her head, "I'm sorry. What I said was strange wasn't it?" She made a small nervous laugh, "It's just that I don't think I can really fully understand what Yuki-kun is going through. I mean, I know how it feels not to have a father around… I didn't get to know my father very well either since I was still so young. I don't even remember him very much. And of course… Mom…"  
  
After hearing her say those words, all at once I felt a great wave of shame engulfing me. Honda-san has gone through her life. And yet she continues… None of my problems seem to matter compared to hers, "Honda-san?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you happy?"  
  
Without any hesitation whatsoever, she flashed me her wonderful, sunny smile, "YES! Of course!"   
  
"Even though so many sad things have happened to you? Even though you'll never be with your mother and father again?"  
  
"Well… if you put it that way… There are times when I do feel sad," Her smile faltered as she looked at me in deep reflection, "But… you know Yuki-kun… a lot a happy things has happened to me as well. I have Uo-chan and Hana-chan as wonderful friends. And now, I have Kyou-kun and Shigure-san and everyone… And of course Yuki-kun… all of you have accepted me into the Souma Family… For that, I think that I'm very lucky. It may sound a little sappy, but there is just so much for me to be thankful for! And for that… I'm very happy."   
  
"…amazing…" I whispered almost inaudibly as I bowed my head to hide my eyes, "…you're truly amazing, Honda-san…"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"All my life, all I wanted was to be just like that. I thought if I made my parents feel proud of me… if I did everything that everyone was expecting from me…"  
  
/…if I made them happy…/   
  
"…if I just waited patiently… it would come eventually.   
  
/…I would be happy too…/  
  
"But no matter how much I tried… how long I waited…"  
  
/…it didn't work…/  
  
"…nothing changed."  
  
/Nothing changed. Nothing ever changes. Nothing will ever change… So I ran away…/  
  
"So I… I started to run away… to see if I can find my own happiness…"  
  
/But that didn't work either./  
  
"And now… Honda-san is in front of me. Even though so many tragic things has happened to you… you still have the ability and the strength to smile…"  
  
/Compared to you…/  
  
"Suddenly everything I did…"  
  
/…compared to you…/  
  
  
"…everything I ever felt…"  
  
/…compared to you./  
  
"Now…seems… rather… shallow."   
  
/I'm so inferior. /  
  
Once again, I dropped my forehead on my knees, feeling suddenly exhausted. Of course, after all is said and done, I started to regret even saying it aloud to her. A heavy silence shrouded the four corners of my room. After a few more moments, the soft rustle of her clothing whispered in the air as she got on her feet. Of course, who would want to stay after hearing someone say something like that. I practically accused her of making me feel bad simply because she had a harder time with life than me. I made a sigh of disgust as I swallowed back the painful lump that was starting to form in my throat.  
  
When suddenly, I felt a slight jostle against my right shin. I look up only to gape in surprise to see her sitting uncertainly on the edge of my bed, staring down at her hands, which was currently folded primly on her lap.   
  
"I'm really sorry Yuki-kun…" she began as she anxiously chewed on her lower lip, "I don't really understand what you're feeling so I really don't know what to say during times like these. But Mom once told me… that even though a fruit doesn't fall too far away from a crooked tree, the tree that sprouts from the seeds of that fruit grow doesn't necessarily be the same as its parent. Its true that may also grow bent and crooked as well. But with proper tending, it may also grow taller and prouder than its parent, with its branches spreading far and wide."  
  
"It's also the same with happiness," She lifted her face and turned to directly look me in the eye, "Happiness is not really something you search for or wait for. Mom also told me that a lot of people tend to expect happiness as a form of reward. So they wait for it… or search for it… often times, not realizing that their happiness is right underneath their noses…"  
  
With that, she gave me a shy grin, "Mom told me, that despite what a lot of people assume, nobody can bring you or give you happiness. The only person who can truly make you happy… is yourself. Happiness is something you create and tend lovingly with your own hands."  
  
For the second time, in less than 24 hours, I was genuinely speechless. I bowed my head and closed my eyes. Before I even realized what I was doing, I've thrown myself on her lap, hands loosely wrapped around her waist. I felt her entire body freeze at my sudden action, uncertain with how to react.  
  
"Ah… ah… ano… Yu-yu-yuki… kun?"  
  
"I know it's too much to ask," I whispered again, "But please… please let me… stay like this… for a little while… please… let me… stay… please… stay…"  
  
I felt her body gradually relax as one hand reluctantly rested on top of my shoulder, and the other started to gently run through my hair. She bent down until I could feel her breath close to my ear.   
  
"Yes. I'll stay with you for as long as you need me, Yuki-kun. I'll stay with you for as long as you want."  
  
With those words, I instinctively tightened my hold around her waist for as far as I could dare without transforming. Then I let the flood that I was holding back in my eyes to fall freely to accompany the violent sobs that wracked through my body.   
  
Honda-san was right. But I wasn't entirely wrong either. Sometimes, you do need to go out and search for it. Now that I found it for sure, there's no way I'll let go. That tiny seed of happiness is finally in my hands now. I'll make sure to plant it and tend to it with all my love. Perhaps… No… not 'perhaps'… It's absolutely for sure…  
  
That seed will grow tall and proud. And its branches will spread far and wide…  
  
  
  
~FIN~  
  
AUTHOR'S SQUAWK:  
  
Huaaaaaa! Final chapter -desu! Ina-chan starts to weep Hu! Hu! Hu! I can't believe this damn fic is finally done and I can finally get on with my life… ^_^. Anywayz, it was a lot of fun to write it. Though I felt rather exhausted too. Writing in the point of view of a depressed person is VERY exhausting!  
  
Okay… I'm not an expert on Japanese divorce laws… but this is what I gathered. Normally, the father is granted custody of the children. BUT if the mother gains custody, the children legally stop being their father's children. I'm not sure if fathers are obligated to provide child support as the children grow up… but from what I gather, the father does pay his wife a certain amount of money at the divorce. But I'm assuming that it depends on what the agreement between them re: child support and visitations. But I know for sure that the children loose their right to carry their father's last name and have to take their mother's maiden name at the event of their parents' divorce. To keep their father's name after a divorce, their father has to legally adopt them.  
  
Well… I made Yuki's and Ayame not look like their father and made their mother not a Souma family member for just storyline reasons. There's no basis of this conclusion from the manga whatsoever. Though it seems to me, based on their mother's physical traits on the manga… her features look pretty close to Yuki's and Ayame's… so I assumed that the boys took after her. BUT at the same time… Yuki's facial features look too similar to Akito's as well… so it IS possible that his mother was a Souma after all. Then again… we don't know what Yuki and Ayame's father look like in the manga. For all we know, he could be another "pretty boy" and Yuki and Ayame may have gotten their looks from him. ^_^.  
  
Going back to chapter 2… in reaction to what some people thought of how I portrayed Yuki's father. Well… I had this saying kept in mind when I was imagining Yuki's family (the Souma Family in general) "Dysfunctional is not ideal, but it's not necessarily evil either". My version of Yuki's Dad will definitely not make the cut for "Father of the Year". He's a total jerk and absolute hypocrite. I put in him the worst trait I think an adult could ever have… "To preach one thing to children then act in another manner." BUT, I don't think he's evil incarnate either… in his own dysfunctional way… he's really trying to be a "father". He definitely needs help on how to do it right, but I like the idea that at least he's genuinely trying.   
  
And yes… if people are still wondering, the paternity question thing was a cruel joke. Yuki really is his son, and that was his way of teaching Yuki a lesson for being a smart-ass… I told you he was a jerk. ^_^.  
sweatdrops Actually… no-one's commented on this yet… I dunno if anyone even noticed it. But I did inject certain mannerisms in Yuki's Dad to indicate that even though his Dad claims that Yuki is a lot more like his mother, Yuki is still his father's son. Actually, I also inserted some (at least more obviously) of Ayame's traits in him too…  
  
Haaa! This commentary is getting too long… you know where to C&C…  
  
Ja!  
Ina-chan 


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